


What Was Missing

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Mycroft Holmes, Developing Relationship, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Greg Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26321818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Mycroft always wondered what was missing in his life. The answer came from an unexpected place.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 13
Kudos: 195





	What Was Missing

Mycroft had always lived a carefully controlled life. From the time he was small he was expected to be in control of himself, to manage himself in a way that wouldn't bother anyone else and to excel at any challenge put before him.

For the most part, he'd accomplished these things and had accumulated a life of quiet, orderly power. Sherlock had always been a challenge, had always refused to be under his thumb, but he'd learned to manage the unexpected with him.

So why, at middle age, did his life feel so hollow?

He could look around at all he'd accomplished, could know that at a word he could ruin lives and countries. But something was missing.

Mycroft searched with his usual efficiency. He experimented with various pleasures, took time to do a bit of travel, even studied a bit of religion and spiritualism despite his lifelong atheism. But the small hours of the night still echoed with emptiness. The pleasures and travels ended and he was back where he'd begun.

So it was unexpected when one day he realized the ache had eased and that the reason for it was the man sitting across from him at dinner. Meetings about Sherlock had shifted into something else. Greg's smile was warm and genuine as he laughed at something Mycroft had said, every line of his posture was relaxed and open.

With only a moment of hesitation, Mycroft reached over to cover Greg's hand with his own. "Come back to mine."

Greg grinned at him. "I thought you'd never ask."

Mycroft called his car and they stood out on the kerb, Greg holding Mycroft's fingers. Mycroft watched the traffic, trying to remember the last time anyone had touched him so casually.

Greg sat close to him in the car. Mycroft watched the city go by, hyper-aware of Greg's nearness. The air hummed with possibility despite their perfectly proper behavior.

Mycroft led Greg into the house. Most people, walking into his house, would take a moment to be impressed by the grand entrance, the perfectly placed artwork, the statue guarding the turn of the stairs, the wainscoting and arches and maybe even the expensive rug.

Greg looked at none of those things, eyes only on Mycroft as if he were the most beautiful and precious thing in the entire house.

Mycroft shivered under that gaze, feeling warm and aroused. Greg stepped closer and helped him out of his jacket, then took off his own. Mycroft turned to hang them up and when he turned back Greg cupped his cheek and drew him into a tender kiss.

_ This must be what it feels like when a star goes supernova, _ thought Mycroft. He leaned into Greg's touch, opening to him, moaning softly as Greg's tongue explored his mouth. Any other momentary amusements he'd had before were nothing compared to this.

Greg's hand felt warm on his waist. Mycroft suddenly wanted in a way he never had before. Sure, he'd had the experience of sex, but this was different, this was needing like air. This was falling and trusting that Greg would be there to catch him.

"Where is your bedroom?" asked Greg, breaking the kiss to nibble on Mycroft's throat.

"Upstairs," gasped Mycroft, blindly reaching out and catching Greg's hand. Greg grinned as he was towed along. Mycroft could feel his gaze, eyes still only for him and not even looking at the well-appointed house around him.

The walk to the bedroom had never felt so long. Mycroft got to the end of the hall and opened the door, flipping on the light.

"Oh you do have a magnificent bed," said Greg, taking in the large four-poster that looked as though it could have belonged to Ebenezer Scrooge. It was the first comment he'd made on any of the furnishings.

Greg quickly looked back to Mycroft, pulling him close and starting on his buttons. Mycroft groaned softly as Greg returned his attention to his throat, not quite sure where to put his own hands and eventually settling them on Greg's waist.

"Do you know the things I want to do to you?" asked Greg, opening up his waistcoat and pushing it off his shoulders. "You're the most amazing man I've ever met."

"Nobody has ever seen me the way that you do," said Mycroft quietly, eyes closing as Greg ran a hand along bared skin.

Greg paused and raised his head. "Have you had sex?" he asked.

Mycroft raised his smile. "Sex, yes. On occasion. But this... feels like something different."

Greg put his hand over Mycroft's heart as he kissed him again. "It does to me, too," he said softly.

Mycroft knew that Greg was telling the truth. And it was almost stunning to realize that someone truly did feel that way about him. Perhaps it was time for some offensive action.

Kissing Greg, Mycroft pressed him backward until Greg’s back hit the door. He attacked his buttons, rewarded with a soft moan as he slid his thigh between Greg's legs.

"Fuck," muttered Greg as Mycroft came up for air.

"We're getting there," smiled Mycroft.

Greg gave him an answering grin. He cupped Mycroft's face as he kissed him again. Mycroft's hand's stilled as Greg slipped his tongue into his mouth.

Almost without realizing it was happening, Mycroft found himself walked back until they toppled together into the bed. The man really didn't fight fair and Mycroft couldn't be more delighted.

Greg smiled down at him and reached for Mycroft's belt. "Alright?" he asked.

"God yes. Please don't stop." Mycroft pulled him down for another kiss. Somehow with a bit of rolling around and kicking off of shoes they ended up naked in the middle of the bed. 

Greg grinned down at him, openly admiring Mycroft's body. "God, but you're dead sexy."

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"As a matter of fact I have," said Greg, leaning in to kiss his way down Mycroft's chest. Nobody had ever  _ worshiped _ him this way. Sex before had always been a simple matter of achieving climax. But this was heavenly.

Greg gently spread his thighs. "Please tell me you have lube," he said.

"Second drawer," said Mycroft, waving at his bedside table. 

Greg crawled over to grab it, smiling as he pushed aside the toy that Mycroft had left in there and pulling out the lube.

"Please," whispered Mycroft as Greg leaned in to kiss him again, teasing him.

"Oh I'm gonna," smiled Greg, nipping Mycroft's lower lip. 

Mycroft ran his hands down Greg's sides, groaning softly as he teased him open, wanting nothing more than to be filled by this man. 

Greg had workingman's hands, broad and rough as he worked Mycroft open, leaving him panting for more. He had a way of driving every other thought from Mycroft's mind and he hadn't even taken him yet.

"I want you," growled Greg, knocking his legs a little wider apart and pulling out his fingers.

"I am yours," breathed Mycroft.

Greg leaned in and kissed him as he guided himself in. Mycroft gasped and then relaxed, feeling himself surrender. He wrapped his arms around Greg's neck and moved with him.

"Beautiful," murmured Greg, holding him close, groaning softly, speeding his thrusts.

There was nothing more wonderful than to be the vessel of Greg's pleasure. Mycroft rather hoped that this would become a more regular occurrence for the both of them.

Greg shifted his hips and Mycroft shivered with delight, feeling Greg start to lose his rhythm. He opened his eyes in time to watch pleasure wash across Greg's face.

Panting, Greg rested his forehead on Mycroft's shoulder. Mycroft kissed his temple, ignoring his own need for the moment.

But Greg wasn't done. He carefully pulled out and slid down, swallowing around Mycroft.

Groaning, Mycroft came in a moment, grasping the bedsheets and trying not to cry out.

Greg wiped his mouth and scooted up next to him, kissing him gently. "Mind if I just stay here for a bit?"

Mycroft kissed him back. "Stay as long as you like."

It had taken a lifetime to find what filled that void of emptiness, and he was surprised to learn that it was love and Greg Lestrade that perfectly completed his life.


End file.
